


Blank Canvas

by B_Rabbit14



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Cutting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22032154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Rabbit14/pseuds/B_Rabbit14
Summary: Karma Akabane hates the very thought of perfection, he has his own way to deal with that.
Relationships: Akabane Karma & Shiota Nagisa
Comments: 12
Kudos: 82





	Blank Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! Thank you for giving this a shot, I am particually proud of this work so I hope you enjoy it to.
> 
> WARNING: there will be mentions of and implied self-harm.

He hated seeing the blank, pale skin of his wrists. when he looked at it he saw nothing, it was empty. It always irked him seeing how perfect the flesh looked without any blemishes, the scars were still there but that just didn't seem enough for him anymore. 

He needed more.

-

If there was one thing Karma Akabane hated the most, it was perfection. You could say that was why he never let himself get perfect scores on his tests. That might also have been the reason why his room and belongings were never organized. He knew full well that he was far from perfect and in a way that made him feel better about himself more than it would most people. He just didn't see the point in striving for something that was so clearly impossible. Knowing that he was imperfect in so many ways filled Karma with a relief that could almost rival what most people would resort to for comfort. Emphasis on 'almost'. You see once he picked up that silver marker he just couldn't help but do it over and over again, seeing the ruby ink spill and paint his forearms was pleasing to him.

-

Karma knew to do this was dangerous, but he just couldn't bring himself to care much less stop. He knew that one day he might just mark a bit too deep and that would be the end for him. He didn't want that so he always tried extra hard to make sure he never went too deep, just enough to bleed should be okay, right?

-

He never told anyone about it, he didn't see a reason to. They would just think he was sad or that there was something wrong with him, but he didn't think there was anything wrong with him. He didn't see anything wrong with what he was doing, he wasn't doing this to kill himself or anything drastic like that nor was he doing it for attention. He simply did it because it made him feel better, it was kinda like finally managing to scratch that one particular spot that had been itching non-stop. It gave a relief he didn't think was possible.

He never bothered asking his parents if what he was doing was the right thing or if maybe there was something wrong with him, it had never occurred to him that he might have been going about this the wrong way. He wasn't aware that they were other options. But maybe there was, he just hadn't found one yet.

-

When he went out to grab some dinner for himself since his parents were once again not home, he had seen it on a girl in front of him while he was waiting in line at the cashier of the store. The girl seemed maybe two or three years older than him and had a very extravagant choice of style, to say the least. She had long brown hair that was curly and had blue streaks, she wore it up halfway in two matching small buns with a brightly colored bow in each one. She wore a black tank top that was tucked into a red skirt that fell to the middle of her thighs, on her feet were not surprisingly black combat boots that went up just above her ankles.

Though what he thought struck him the most was her socks, one was neon pink with bright orange polka dots while the other was dark green with grey triangles all over. He noticed how the other people would send her questionable glances or just outright sneer at her sense of fashion, but the girl didn't seem to mind it and she didn't even bother to notice the odd looks she was receiving. Karma couldn't help but respect her for that, most of the girls he knew worried non-stop about how they look and only seemed to feel better about themselves if they slapped on some makeup and threw on some pretty clothing but this girl was different for obvious reasons.

Despite her punky style, she was anything but punky, personality-wise from what he could tell as she politely bid the cashier goodnight and thanked him for her items. Appearances aside it was something else that stole Karma's attention and it was not her disturbingly mismatched socks but her wrists, and the red-haired teenager couldn't help but stare. She had scars just like his if not more so, but she didn't seem to have any fresh cuts as he did. He unconsciously tugged his sleeve down to cover his arm entirely. The scars aren't the only thing that caught his attention, spread atop of her old wounds was a mess of patterns and colors of all kinds. Mixtures of blues and reds blended beautifully while greens and oranges outlined the edges, there wasn't an actual picture to piece together but that was the beauty of it. It didn't make sense because it didn't have to. Karma was broken out of his thoughts when he heard the cashier lazily call for the next person in line.

-

Karma sat on his bed with his sleeves rolled up, he had managed to let his more recent cuts heal so he could finally test something out. He had bought a bag of colorful permanent markers the other day and least to say he was sort of excited. The girl he had seen at the convenience store and given him hope that there was a less dangerous way to relieve himself. He picked up a blue marker and took the cap off before bringing the inked tip to his skin, he took a deep breath before pressing it against his flesh and dragging it along its surface. He drew swirls and many shapes in every color he had, in the end, it looked like a jumbled mess but to him, it looked like an artist's masterpiece. 

Karma Akabane hated the idea of perfection, it made him angry but seeing the artwork displayed on his skin filled him with childish glee when he realized that even though he felt no pain and saw no crimson ink dripping downwards. He felt at ease. He felt, in his own way...

_perfect._

_-_

He continued to draw on his wrists, every time the ink washed away he would create a new piece of art to replace. So enough it became part of his daily routine, he never drew on his arms unless the ink was gone as to not waste so much ink but also so he could savor the sight of each design. Each one was unique and beautiful, his favorite colors to use were red and dark blue as they were the most prominent on his pale skin compared to other colors he had. Karma always set aside enough money from his allowance so he could get more markers, he tried other art supplies like watercolors.

Needless to say, he liked the permanent markers the best, he liked the way the watercolors easily flowed onto his skin and using the paintbrushes was very satisfying but the paint was easily washable and came off far too quickly in his opinion. He was never able to savor the delicate strokes of color so he decided to stick with the markers. Karma always made sure to have a pack of markers on his person just in case he felt like adding more to each design or doing some touch up's when he had time during class. Speaking of school... He hates the school that he goes to now, Kunugigaoka Junior High.

It was swarming with perfectionists and he hated every bit he spent there, he hated everyone there. Well almost everyone. There was one person, Nagisa Shiota. He had run into him while at a store. The boy was pleasant and he didn't get on Karma's nerves like every other soul that inhabited the school they went to. He seemed to take a liking to Karma's art and always admired each new one he made if he ever noticed the scars he never asked about them and Karma couldn't help but appreciate that.

-

"You know that it's possible to get ink poisoning by drawing on yourself especially with this type of markers," Kayano said as she picked up a yellow sharpie from Karma's desk, Karma didn't look up from where he was hunched over doodling on Nagisa's left arm. The said boy turned to Kayano with a closed eye smile and shrugged helplessly.

"It hasn't happened yet so I don't think we have much to worry about," Karma stated with his eyes still glued to Nagisa's arm as he continued to leave steady strokes of blue around the purple flower he had drawn. He had gotten better at actually drawing pictures instead of just blurs of color. Don't get him wrong he still appreciated the simplicity of it and drew that way when he didn't have inspiration or anything in mind to draw. "Besides, I don't think Nagisa minds much. Right?" He spared the blue-haired boy a single glance as he waited for his response. To which Nagisa replied with a nod of his head and a small smile.

"I think your art is amazing, also it's quite satisfying watching the process. I like trying to guess what you're drawing." Karma smiled inwardly as he continued to color on Nagisa's skin. "You don't have to worry Kayano-chan. We're well aware of the risks so you needn't worry." He said politely, to which the green-haired girl nodded in acknowledgment before placing the marker back on Karma's desk and trotting off to chat with some of the other girls in the glass, leaving the two boys to their own devices. Nagisa continued to watch as Karma worked diligently to finish his artwork. "Say, when did you start doing this? The drawing on yourself, I mean." Nagisa asked with a tilt of his head, Karma paused for a moment the green marker he held hovering above Nagisa forearm. He looked up with a blank expression seemingly trying to remember.

"I think about three or so years ago," He answered with a shrug of his shoulders and finished the bottom of the stem of the flower. Once finished both boys stared at the finished piece of art, one held a gaze of pride with the other looked at it in awe of it's finished design.


End file.
